


Multiverse Hypothesis

by laisserais



Category: CW Network RPF, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Porn Stars, Crossover, M/M, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 23:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laisserais/pseuds/laisserais
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe there’s some kind of universal constant after all. Maybe in all worlds, he knows Jared. It’s a comforting thought. </p><p>He just wishes that in all worlds, he was also <i>doing</i> Jared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Multiverse Hypothesis

**Author's Note:**

> written for [salt_burn_porn](http://salt-burn-porn.livejournal.com/), for the prompt: _lend me a hand_. Thanks to tebtosca for the bunny-quick beta and for all the cheerleading! All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> NB: You don't need to be familiar with SGA to get the references here. They can read as OCs if you're unfamiliar.

* * *

Multiverse Hypothesis

**Level I: Beyond our cosmological horizon**

"Dude, check this out."

Jared's fishing in the tip jar; Jensen's leaning on his broom, staring at him covertly. Jared's fingers are long and slender; his hands are big, and you know what they say about big hands... "What?" He blinks away the semi-pornographic images he'd conjured, realizing that Jared's addressing him. 

"Look at this." Jared's holding up a shiny brass coin with a hole in the middle of it. 

“Oh man, I hate it when cheapskates try and unload fake money in the tip jar.” He comes in closer, not one to pass up the opportunity to be near Jared. To smell him. Even over the overwhelming scent of coffee, Jared still smells amazing. 

Laughing, Jared holds it out to him. “Yeah, but that’s usually like, Canadian money, right? This looks like it’s something else.”

When their fingertips brush, Jensen shivers. Man, he’s got to stop acting like a teenager. Jared’s never noticed his epic crush before, there’s no reason to expect that to change any time soon. Jensen could have sworn he used to have at least some amount of dignity. 

He looks at it closer, and Jared’s right. It looks old, worn edges and a faint patina on one side. There’s writing along the edge, but it’s not in any alphabet Jensen recognizes. 

“It’s cool,” he says finally and hands it back. “Keep it, maybe it’s good luck.” He turns back to finish sweeping, determined to finish up and get out of here.

He’s just finished mopping underneath all the tables when Jared comes out from behind the counter, holding up a string. “Here,” he says, and slips on the wet floor, landing on top of Jensen, who lands on his back against a table. 

“Oof,” Jensen says.

Reflexively, he’d grabbed onto Jared’s biceps at the collision, and as they stare at each other for a heartbeat, Jensen realizes he’s clutching Jared to his chest. He loosens his grip. Jared is still looking at him.

“Um, sorry,” he says, and levers himself back to his feet, pulling Jensen to his feet in turn. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Jensen checks; nothing feels broken, but the edge of the table had dug into the small of his back. He stretches to work out the burn and can feel Jared’s eyes track the movement.

“Are you sure?”

Straightening, Jensen notices that Jared’s still holding onto the string. “What do you got there?”

“Oh, uh, it’s stupid. I just made you something.” 

Jensen stares at it for a second, and then says, “Thanks.” It’s the weird coin, strung onto a shoelace. He looks at Jared’s sneakers and, sure enough, one of them is loose and floppy, which explains the quarterback impression. 

Jared holds it out, and jeez, he even looks cute when he’s _flustered_. “Um, I just figured if it was good luck, you could use it? But so far it doesn’t seem all that lucky.”

Jensen stretches his hand out to take the necklace, brain struggling to process the gift and what it could mean. He feels an irrational bubbling up of fondness. Jared’s kind of goofy. 

“Here, let me,” Jared says, and spins his finger in the air. Jensen turns and bends his neck to let Jared tie it around his throat. He can feel the long line of Jared’s body closing in, a warmth spreading through him from the feel of Jared’s fingers as they brush behind his ear. He swallows thickly, wishing the universe could help him out and tell him the right thing to say to get Jared to kiss him. He squeezes his eyes closed tight, holds his breath. The universe is silent. 

“There,” Jared says, and Jensen can sense it when he steps away. He turns back and Jared’s dimples are fit to bursting. “Perfect.”

Jensen smiles back, a flush creeping down from his ears. They look at each other for another moment, and then Jensen clears his throat. “Uh, thanks, Jay. It’s really cool. I’ll—“Oh crap, he almost said _I’ll never take it off_. He pivots on his heel, heading to the stockroom and says, “I’ll go finish up in the back.”

He ducks behind the counter, grateful for the escape, opens the stockroom door—

And steps into a classroom.

The door swings shut behind him, and everyone looks up from their desks at the noise. 

“What the hell?” 

He turns and opens the door again, but on the other side, where he if he’d any expectations at all, it would have been to see the coffee shop stockroom; there’s nothing but a high school hallway.

“Ah, Mr. Ackles, so good of you to join us, please take your seat.”

Swiveling back to the room and its audience, Jensen stares at the teacher, mouth open. “But—"

“Unless you have a more pressing engagement?” 

“No, but I—“

“Wonderful. Now, where were we? Ah yes, Act I Scene I: “I, measuring his affections by my own…”

What the hell?

His presence dismissed as no longer interesting, everyone turns back to their books, and Jensen, finding that gaping like a fish doesn’t help matters, takes a seat at the back of the room. 

*

**Level II: Universes with different physical constants**

He’d spent the hour going back over everything in his head. Maybe he’d actually been concussed when Jared fell on him? Maybe he’s dreaming? Quietly, he clicks his heels under his desk and murmurs, “there’s no place like home,” until the girl on his right gives him a death glare. 

It doesn’t work anyway, so he stops. 

He distinctly remembers getting up this morning, riding his bike to class, waiting for office hours to get his thesis approved, then going to work. He remembers making lattes, stocking the milk fridge, drooling over Jared, then closing up. He reaches up and, yep, the silly shoestring necklace is there, so that _had_ to have happened. 

But everything after that…he’s got nothing. 

And he doesn’t have his phone on him, or a pen or paper; nothing to help him hash it out or even make it seem like he’s busy. The teacher, who bears a passing resemblance to his actual high school English teacher, but without the hideous mustache, and who seems to know him, gives him disapproving glares from time to time, as if being unprepared for class is a habitual occurrence.

Which is in no way accurate to the historical record, Jensen would like it noted.

Anyway, an hour goes by and he’s still no closer to understanding what the fuck happened. 

When the bell rings, he’s up like a shot and out the door—

And back in a high school hallway. He sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. If this school is anything like his actual high school, it shouldn’t be too much trouble to sneak off campus. Maybe he can walk back to the coffee shop from here. Wherever _here_ is. 

Decided, Jensen heads for the nearest exit.

“Jen!” There’s a shout, and then he’s tackled back against a row of lockers. Jensen blinks up into Jared’s face, and Jared smiles, and then kisses him soundly. “Hey! Where were you, I waited in the cafeteria.”

Jensen’s first instinct is relief. _Thank God_ , he thinks. If Jared’s here, that means whatever is going on is probably not just a product of his rapidly-swelling and/or comatose brain. And then he rewinds. Jared _kissed_ him. He blinks. Jared’s hair is still floppy, but much shorter, and he’s wearing a soccer uniform.

“…Um,” he says.

The ecstatic look fades from Jared’s face and Jensen’s heart gives a pang. Jared’s happy, open grin is the highlight of Jensen’s day; he hates to see it flicker out, even in the midst of his confusion. 

Jared steps back and frowns. “Jen?”

“Yeah,” he says, but his voice cracks. He clears his throat. “Yeah, uh, sorry.”

Jared’s fingers tangle with his and Jensen reflexively squeezes, looking down in a sort of daze. Jared squeezes back, and then leans in, kisses him again—a light peck—and whispers in his ear, “You can make it up to me, come on.”

Then Jensen is being led by their joined hands around the corner and into a custodial closet. When the door shuts, Jared’s all over him, hands strong and feverish, like he’s been missing Jensen. He’s mouthing hot along Jensen’s neck, and well. Jensen’s only human. 

He goes with it, does a little exploring of his own. He slips his hands up underneath Jared’s shirt, feeling the acres of soft warm skin over hard-packed muscle. Fuck, he knew Jared liked to work out, but. His fingers strum along the washboard of Jared’s abs and snag on the waistband of Jared’s shorts. 

A quick inhalation of breath tells him that Jared’s waiting for him to do something, teeth poised over Jensen’s neck. Experimentally, he lets his hand slide a little further inside and Jared exhales, biting down hard on Jensen’s neck, cursing. That reaction goes straight to Jensen’s cock, and he presses Jared up against the door, all of the months of jerk-off fantasies and frustrated attempts to flirt explode into a flurry of action. He crushes their mouths together, opening up, demanding Jared give him more of his, fuck, sinfully wicked tongue; he palms Jared’s cock roughly, strokes it a couple of times, eliciting a groan from Jared, and then he can’t take it anymore, he’s got to.

He slides to his knees, taking Jared’s shorts and boxers with him, and licks a stripe up the long underside of Jared’s cock. Hands sink into his hair; Jared’s head thunks against the door. “Shit, Jen, are you sure?”

Jensen licks another stripe and sucks the head of Jared’s cock into his mouth. How’s that for sure?

Jared hisses, the fingers tighten then relax completely, start to pet him, like maybe Jared’s afraid of hurting him. Jensen moans, takes the thick length of him all the way down. He’d wondered what Jared would be like. Rough or gentle, silent or a screamer. The fact that he’s a little of all of the above is so hot he has to squeeze his own dick, aching in his jeans. 

He takes him deep again and swallows, blinking away tears, totally gratified when it makes Jared lose his words. He swirls his tongue as he pulls back, flicking at the slit before heading down again. 

“It’s just, I thought you said, _fuck_ do that again. I thought you said you wanted to wait.”

Jared’s hands are fluttering around him now, as if they’re unsure where they should land. Jensen pulls off, a trail of saliva connected from Jared’s shining tip to his tongue. He laps at it and looks up. Jared’s flushed and soft looking; positively edible. 

“What?”

Huffing a laugh, Jared says, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely not trying to stop you, but. When we talked about it before, you said you wanted to wait until you were married.”

Digging his nails into his palms, Jensen rests his head against Jared’s hip. The thing of it is, he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to look this gift horse in the mouth, but he doubts that ignoring the problem will make it go away. 

Steeling himself, he pulls back and looks at Jared’s cock, hard and bobbing right there, just out of reach. He says, “Jared?”

“Yeah?”

“How do we know each other?”

“What?”

“How did we meet?”

He looks up then, at Jared’s puzzled frown. “What are you even talking, Jen, I’ve known you forever. We met in Eighth grade P.E. You hit me in the face with a dodge ball. Are you okay?”

He’s really not. Bidding a silent but mournful farewell to Jared’s beautiful cock, he gets to his feet. 

He’s seen enough movies to know how this goes; if this is some kind of porno version of _It’s A Wonderful Life_ , he doesn’t want to be naked when Clarence shows up, spouting about angels getting their wings. 

“Wrong, Jay. We met when I got a job at Strange Brew. I work with you.”

“You got a job—wait, what?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, and runs a hand up the back of his neck. “I don’t think I know you. I mean, _this_ you. Uh. I’m not your Jensen?”

“Jen, you realize that makes no kind of sense, right? If I didn’t know you were all gung-ho for Jesus, I’d say you’d smoked one too many of Kane’s funny cigarettes.” Jared takes the opportunity to hike his shorts back up. Jensen wants to pout. Why couldn’t he have just kept his damn mouth shut?

Also: gung-ho for Jesus? Oh crap, did he just accidentally devirginize himself? Or, his other self. Whatever. 

“Seriously, why don’t we go see the nurse. She can, I don’t know, take your temperature or something.”

Jared opens the door, holding it open for him. Jensen knows it’s probably futile to argue. Hell, it’s not like he’s got any better ideas. He shifts his still-aching cock and starts to leave, but notices that his necklace must have come loose during the proceedings, because it’s gleaming dimly in the corner, underneath the shelf full of cleaning supplies. He bends to retrieve it and the door shuts. Exasperated, he re-ties it around his neck, saying, “Jay, wait up.”

When he opens the door, he stumbles in the unexpected darkness and heads face first down a slope, landing with a thump in a dark, echoing chamber. 

Goddamn it, now what.

*  
 **Level III: Many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics**

“No, I'm telling you, the energy readings are coming from _that_ way.”

“Uh, hello?” Jensen’s been sitting in the dark for what feels like hours. He’d walked the circumference of the space he’s in. As far as he can tell, the only entrance is the one he came through, straight above his head. He’d called out for Clarence, to no avail, and has just started to work up a nice big panic attack. 

As the voices get closer, Jensen can make out more of their conversation. He hopes they’re here to rescue him. Or at least let him out, but from the bickering, Jensen’s not sure they can even hear him. 

“Hello?” He calls out again, louder. 

Then there’s a whoosh, and a sudden, piercing white light as an invisible door opens. “Jeez, Rodney, I told you to eat before we left.”

Two guys walk in. One’s chewing on a Power bar. The other looks cranky. And kind of like a male model, actually. 

“You always bring extra, shut up. Besides, if I go into hypoglycemic shock while we’re down here, we’ll never be able to finish the ritual. Wouldn’t want the natives to get restless, would we?” Then the guy leers, mouth full of food. And the hot one just laughs, like it’s some kind of hilarious private joke. 

“Hello?” Jensen says again, stepping up right in front of them. 

“Ackles, there you are. Did your radio go dead?” The hot one’s looking at him like _he’s_ a private joke, hands in his pockets and slouching. 

The other one gets right up in Jensen’s face, waving a beeping handheld thing. “Colonel, check this out, the reading’s coming from Jensen.”

The hot guy—Colonel?—steps in close, too, and they both peer at the instrument, which is pointed at Jensen’s necklace. 

“Uh,” Jensen says. 

“Where’d you get this?” Power bar guy’s pointing at his chest accusingly, as if Jensen stole it or something. He catches it in his hand, closes his fist around it.

“Jared gave it to me,” he says, as if these guys know what he’s talking about. But then again, they seem to know him. He chances it, “Is Jared with you?”

“No,” says Power Bar, like he’s talking to a slow child, “he stayed in the village, like we asked you both to do.”

“Oh.” Nonplussed, he lets go of the necklace when the Colonel gestures at it. 

“Can I see it?”

He slips it off and hands it over. They turn it over in the light of a flashlight, and aren’t those handy things to have around. 

“This is ancient,” says the Colonel.

“Yeah, I thought it looked old,” Jensen says. They both look at him and blink. “Um.” He shifts his weight onto one foot. 

“No, I mean like, _Ancient_. Didn’t you recognize the writing?” That’s the Colonel again. Power Bar has taken the thing out of his hand and is greedily examining the writing. 

“No? Is that some kind of language you can read? What’s it say?” And the penny drops for Jensen. If that thing is giving off an energy signature…it’s the only common denominator so far. Weirder things have happened. Well, actually no, this pretty much takes the weird cake. 

He’s a little sad he’s not going to get to talk to an angel about how actually his life is pretty good, all things considered. He’d been looking forward to that. 

The Colonel’s eyes slide over him, head to foot and back again. Jensen tries not to twitch. “Hey Rodney,” he says, and _that’s_ the other guy’s name. “When we left Atlantis, were any of us out of uniform?”

“What? No, of course not,” Rodney says, brusque, eyes for nothing but the necklace. “Well, I mean, not if you don’t count Jared and the weird animal skins he likes to wear.”

“Yeah,” the Colonel squints, and then there’s an enormous gun trained on him. Jensen raises his hands up, palms out, terrified.

“Whoa! Whoa, don’t shoot.”

“Who are you?” All laziness is gone now from the guy in front of him. Jensen spares a thought that maybe the guy’s like, a literal Colonel. Like in the army. That hadn’t been initially apparent.

But it is now. He looks at Rodney, who’s looking back with a crooked open mouth. “Sheppard, what are you doing?” He comes up, angles himself to one side, but almost in between them. Jensen’s desperately grateful. “John,” he says, and there’s no hint of impatience as he says it, low. Soothing.

“Look again, McKay. This guy’s not Ackles.”

They both look at him, and Jensen looks down, takes in his jeans and t-shirt. He’s maybe not the freshest daisy in the field. It’s been a long day. 

“I am,” he says. “But I’m not the one you know. It’s hard to explain—“

Snapping his fingers in Jensen’s face, Rodney cuts him off. “You touched this coin and now you’re slipping through parallel universes.”

“—Or maybe not. Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Please,” Rodney snorts. “You have any idea how many other Sheppards and McKays I’ve met? Although you’re the first other Ackles. What are we like in your universe? I bet Sheppard’s a kindergarten teacher.”

Sheppard’s lowering his gun, and he arches an eyebrow at Rodney. “You keep saying that, Rodney, but it’s never true.”

“You’ve been a mathematician and a commercial pilot; you’ve even been a _stripper_ , the odds are in my favor.”

“He was an exotic dancer,” Sheppard says. Or, more like whines. “And that was a perfectly normal profession in his universe. _You_ were a rodeo clown.”

Jensen jumps in before they forget about him and leave him in here. “I don’t know you guys in my universe,” he says. “But I do know Jared. Can I see him?”

They turn to look at him. Sheppard _smirks_. “Sure,” he says. “Follow me. Oh, I’m Colonel John Sheppard, by the way. That’s Doctor Rodney McKay.”

“Doctor twice over, actually,” Rodney says. “Astrophysics and Mechanical Engineering.”

*

Wherever they’re going is a very long way away, over a large expanse of grassland. It’s daylight, which is surprising; Jensen had assumed it was night, but he’d just been deep inside a building. McKay explains the structure they’d found him in is an Ancient outpost; they're on an alien planet, looking for advanced tech and negotiating trade deals between the locals and a military base...which is on a different alien planet. But filled with people from Earth. McKay steamrollers over all of Jensen's questions; Sheppard has gone back to looking bored and picking stalks of grass, which he chews on like all of this is perfectly normal.

Then McKay attempts to explain wormhole physics and faster than light space travel, the Ancients, aliens who suck the life out of people through their hands, alternate universes, and secret military installations buried under NORAD. 

He’d lost Jensen at wormhole physics, but Jensen nods along like he gets it, figuring he's absorbing at least some of the actually the important stuff. For the first time, he starts to freak out about how he’s going to get home. Honestly, he’d been hoping til now that he’d been hallucinating, but if what he’s gleaning from Rodney’s faster than light babble is true, then he’s got practically zero chance of ever finding his own universe, ever again.

“The only thing you’ve got going for you is the coin. If it’s actually Ancient, if they made it on purpose for multiverse travel…do you realize what that means? This is by far the most sophisticated piece of Ancient tech we’ve ever come across. If they’ve solved the problem of the matter bridge—“

“Yeah, we get it, McKay, amazing break-throughs. Revolutionize our understanding of physics and…other stuff.” Sheppard winks at him, falling behind and letting McKay ramble on. “So, you’ve never heard of the Stargate program, huh?”

“No,” Jensen says. They’d given him back the necklace, and Jensen’s taken to playing with it, sliding it back and forth along its shoestring cord. 

“The Earth ever get attacked? Like by, say, giant flying pyramids?”

Jensen looks him askance. “Not that I know of?”

“Yeah,” Sheppard says, sounding disappointed. “Hey,” he pitches his voice low. “You guys have Don’t Ask Don’t Tell?”

Blinking, Jensen says, “We used to, but it got repealed.” On the tip of his tongue is _why_ , but then he gets it. All the bickering; he’d thought they reminded him of someone, and now he realizes who: his parents. 

Sheppard and McKay are like an old married couple. He slides Sheppard a glance. “You?”

“Still in effect, last I heard.” Sheppard picks a long stalk of grass and starts to shred it. 

Jensen looks away, embarrassed. Up ahead, Rodney’s still talking.

*

The sun is setting when they finally come upon a village. It’s made of stone and cut through with meandering streets. It looks surprisingly medieval. Like, European even. “You sure we’re on a different planet?”

“Yeah, why?” Rodney barely glances at him, barreling ahead into a tavern.

“No reason,” Jensen says and shrugs. Who knew there were other worlds with intelligent life out there. Intelligent life that built taverns. That’s the best revelation Jensen’s heard all day. He follows them inside.

And runs into Jared. 

God, he looks good. This version is all lean muscle and, fuck, leather pants? His mouth goes dry with a click.

“Hey, Jensen,” he says, smiling. Hm. Maybe there’s some kind of universal constant after all, Jensen thinks. Maybe in all worlds, he knows Jared. It’s a comforting thought. 

He just wishes that in all worlds, he was also _doing_ Jared. 

Mouth full—and where’d he get food already?—Rodney says, “That’s not Jensen. Well, it is, but not ours.”

Jared looks over his shoulder at Rodney, and then back at Jensen. “Huh. Parallel universe?”

“Yeah. Is that a thing here?”

“Guess so,” Jared shrugs. It makes the muscles in his shoulders and bare arms flex and bunch. Now Jensen’s mouth is watering. “Didn’t encounter it much til these guys showed up.”

Jensen follows Jared’s gesture to sit down at a long wooden table and accepts the mug handed to him. “You’re not American? Or, shit, not from Earth?” That’s such a weird thought.

“From Sateda.” He drinks from his mug, no more explanation apparently forthcoming. Jensen drinks, too. It’s a good strong ale. Not quite like anything he’s ever had before. 

“Hey, so,” Sheppard sits down next to him with a mug of his own. “The other Jensen, our Jensen, lost at rock paper scissors, which means he was going to perform the ritual to seal the trade agreement. But since you’re not him, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

The way Sheppard says it gives Jensen pause. “Ritual?”

“Yeah.” Sheppard scratches the back of his head. “It’s a thing we do, from time to time. Some planets like a show of good faith. Most of the time it’s, you know, hop on one leg and cluck like a chicken.” He looks away. “Sometimes it’s a show of strength, like pulling a plow through a field.”

“I usually do those.” Jared’s dimples flash when he grins. Yeah, Jensen can just bet. 

“But uh,” Sheppard starts to get twitchy, and Jensen has a sinking feeling in his gut. “This one’s a little more involved.”

“Involved like how?”

“Like an offering to the goddess of fertility? Two of us get locked in the temple overnight and um,” he mumbles something Jensen can’t make out.

“Huh?”

“Make an offering of life seed.”

Jensen stares. 

“Rodney and I can do it, it’s no big deal.”

“And who was your Jensen going to get locked in a temple with?”

Jared pipes up, dimples flashing again, “I usually do those, too.”

Never let it be said that Jensen stands in the way of free trade. “I’ll do it.”

*

After a whole lot of mumbo jumbo, the door clicks shut and Jared starts taking off his clothes. “So um.” Jensen loses his train of thought as Jared unlaces his pants. That are made of leather. And laced up over his crotch. And leather.

“So um?”

He forces his gaze up to Jared’s face, which is full of humor. “Um. Yeah. You and your Jensen do this a lot?”

“Make life seed offerings?”

The pants are shucked off, and Jared’s hard already, standing in the candle glow of low lamps on every surface aside from the enormous, fluffy looking bed. “Yeah?” Jensen squeaks.

Shrugging, Jared sprawls out on his back, one hand casually palming his cock, the other skating along his chest. “It doesn’t come up a lot, no. But we fuck all the time.”

“You—“ Jensen’s going to pass out. 

“Why don’t you take your clothes off? Come on.” Jared pats the bed next to him. 

Fumbling with his belt, Jensen hops to. “Do you think he’d mind? I mean, you and me…”

His laugh is a low rumble, and it shoots down Jensen’s spine. His cock twitches. “You know what’s weird? I know for a fact that he doesn’t. We’ve actually discussed it.”

“You what?” Jensen’s trying to listen, honest to God he is, but Jared. He’s fisting his cock now, throwing his shoulders back into the pillows, hips lifting into it.

“After the second—or was it the third?—McKay showed up, he figured it was better safe than sorry. What about your Jared?”

Jensen huffs a laugh as he kneels up on the bed. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think Jared’s gonna mind this.”

“Cool,” Jared says, and grabs his wrist, reeling him in for a kiss. Jensen spreads his legs, straddling Jared’s hips, catches his weight on his palms and just sort of stares for a second. “What?” Jared’s running his palms hot and heavy along Jensen’s sides and it makes him shiver. 

“Nothing just. You’re gorgeous.”

Jared looks down, lashes sweeping his cheeks. His dimples are in high relief. “So are you,” he says. 

“Pfft, I doubt it,” Jensen says. “I’m no marine.” And how weird is that? He’s a _marine_ apparently. “I bet your Jensen’s all cut, with huge muscles and a buzz cut.” Seriously, a _marine_.

“Yeah,” Jared says, pulling him into another kiss. “But you’re gorgeous in your own way. You have freckles.” And he kisses across Jensen’s cheeks, down his nose, as if he’s chasing them. 

It makes him squirm. “There can’t be any universe where I get to sleep with you and _not_ have freckles. It’s just not fair.”

Jared shrugs and flips them over. And then the time for talking is over. He fits a knee between Jensen’s thighs and Jensen bucks up into it, rubbing himself off while Jared kisses him again, deeper this time, wet and hot and oh Jesus, he hopes the fertility goddess will be happy with multiple offerings, because he’s not going to last. 

Jared’s sucking wet bites into his chest, along his ribs. He’s heading unerringly South and Jensen encourages him. When he takes Jensen’s cock in his mouth, Jensen moans, clenching his hands in the sheets. Jared’s holding his hips down as he deep throats him, fingers digging in and Jensen wonders if there will be bruises. The thought scorches through him and he can’t hold out. “Jared, fuck, I’m gonna—“ and he comes. Jared swallows around him and slowly eases him down, Jensen shuddering, electric current running through his nerves. 

Jared crawls back up to kiss him, letting Jensen taste himself. He’s rubbing his cock in the hollow of Jensen’s hip, casually, like he’d be fine with just that, but his hands are kneading into the meat of Jensen’s ass. 

“Fuck, Jay, you’re fucking brilliant.” Jared ducks his head at the praise. 

“Had some practice,” he says. And oh. Right. A surge of…jealousy? disperses the clouds of lust fogging Jensen’s brain. 

“He trained you well,” is what he says. “Do you want to fuck me?”

“God yes,” Jared says, and kisses him again, deep and plundering like Jared can’t wait another second. 

“Here, kneel up, hand me the oil,” Jensen says. 

Jared does kneel up, but he doesn’t relinquish the oil he grabs from the bedside table. “Let me do it?”

“Yeah, okay.” Jensen lays back down and spreads his legs. He starts to blush when Jared stares at him like he’s starving. 

“Spread your legs a little more. There, yeah.” One finger circles his hole, just a gentle touch, and Jensen sucks in a breath. “Mm,” Jared says. It starts to press in and Jensen gasps, spreads his legs wider. 

“Fuck, Jay. Do it." And Jared complies, slipping a finger all the way in, fast and rough, and he crooks it, scoring across Jensen’s prostate like he knows perfectly well the way Jensen likes it. And Jensen does like it. He likes it a lot, even if he’d never imagined his first time with Jared to be on an alien planet in a parallel universe.

Two fingers are fucking into him, and Jared’s back to rubbing off against his hip. Jensen twists until they can kiss again, lazy and disconnected from the action below; it’s almost sweet, and it sets up a yearning sort of feeling behind his breastbone. Because he’d always imagined it would be sweet like this with Jared. _His_ Jared.

A third one now, and it’s tight, and Jared’s faster, rougher, not letting him adjust; it’s almost fucking _perfect_. His cock is swelling again and he’s probably scratching the hell out of Jared’s shoulders, but oh fuck, Jared’s rocking up against him in counterpoint to his fingers and Jensen’s entire world narrows to Jared, what Jared’s doing to him and how they’re connected. 

“Are you ready?” Jared’s breathing heavy now, face flushed and gorgeously heavy-eyed. 

“Yeah, yes, Jared, fuck me, please, come on.”

Jared kneels up, dripping more oil over his cock and fisting it. Jensen flings his legs wide.

“Jared! Jensen!" There's a pounding on the door. It's Sheppard. "We gotta go, wraith darts inbound. Let’s move it.”

Jared’s off the bed and into his pants before Jensen can even blink. Shit. “What? Wraith?”

“Yeah, come on.” Jensen’s pants and shirt land on top of him. He’s way too lust-fucked to understand what’s happening. 

“The guys who like to suck the life out of you? They’re here, we gotta move. Now!”

That’s all he needs to hear. Those guys sound like nothing Jensen ever needs to meet in person. He scrambles into his clothes and follows Jared out into the night.

Sheppard and McKay are right in front of them. Villagers are running back and forth, too, everyone dodging away from the bright beams of light coming from the sky. 

“I’ll dial the gate,” Sheppard says, and books ahead.

Soon a bright blue ring of light is glowing in front of them and McKay runs straight into it. Jensen looks at Jared, who says, “Come on,” and follows.

He looks back at Sheppard. “Right behind you, Ackles, let’s move.”

So Jensen runs into the ring of light.

And onto the set of a movie. 

No, scratch that. 

He runs onto the set of a porno.

“There you are,” Jared says. He looks Jensen up and down. “You’re late. Do you need the fluffer?”

*

**Level IV: Ultimate Ensemble**

He’s becoming a pro. Well, evidently he’s already a pro at some things, if seeing is believing, but also now at stumbling into confusing and strangely erotic parallel universes.

Jensen covers the best he can. “I’m good,” he says. “Just give me a minute.”

He’s still slick with the oil from the temple. And now he’s also totally gross and sweaty from running for his life. He really wishes he could take a shower. But looking around, he’s getting the sense that it won’t matter. 

Jensen’s no slouch in the porn-watching department; he likes to think he’s seen a thing or two. 

But this is a new one. Everyone around them is big and burly, guys with beards and, like, pelts on their chests. Is his alternate self really into this kind of stuff? Hm.

He strips and gets into a robe and goes to find Jared. “So um. Remind me of what’s happening in this scene again.”

Jared gives him a look of exasperation, but he’s pretty sure there’s some fondness in there, too. 

He leans in and kisses Jensen’s temple. Yeah, okay, definitely fondness. Jensen’s cock starts to take an interest. 

“I come into the gym and you cruise me. Then you offer to spot me on the weights. Then we go fuck in the sauna.”

Oh. That makes way more sense. He pushes out a relieved breath, knowing he’s not going to get gangbanged by a troop of bears. “Right. I just meant, you know, what’s my motivation?” And he winks. 

Jared laughs and kisses him. “Are you ready?”

As he’ll ever be. 

He’s so hopped up on adrenaline, it’s not until the lights are on and the cameras are rolling that Jensen thinks about performance anxiety. 

They get through the come-on scene all right, he thinks, but mostly because he’s still allowed to wear gym shorts. Granted, they’re tinier than most g-strings, but it’s something. 

It’s only when they set up the sauna shot that Jensen’s stomach starts to pitch and roll. 

Jared’s next to him, drinking Mountain Dew and looking at his phone. Jensen gravitates toward him and reaches out, unthinking, the need for connection stronger than fear. Jared turns to him and smiles, leans into the touch. It grounds Jensen. He takes a deep breath. This will be fine. 

And it is. Mostly. Jared’s warm and pliant under his hands, and Jensen doesn’t think he can ever get enough of just touching Jared. He kneels and takes his cock down, closing his eyes as he sets a rhythm, blissed out on the sounds Jared’s making.

And then the director yells, “Cut!” And all of the people and sounds that had disappeared come roaring back. Jared sits up, petting Jensen’s hair. 

“That was great,” he says. “But you should probably remember to angle your jaw so the camera can get the shot. What’s with you today, you’re like a bundle of nerves.”

“Right, the camera. Yeah, no nothing’s wrong. I think I’m just a little tired.” And ain’t that the truth. He doesn’t have a watch, but by Jensen’s calculations, he’s been fucking Jared in one permutation or another for a solid eighteen hours. He’s not, in actuality, a porn star; he feels like he should get a medal.

Jared gives him an appraising look. “When we get home I’ll give you a massage, how’s that sound?”

He chokes on his tongue and has to pound on his chest for a second. “We live together?”

Oops, he probably shouldn’t have sounded shocked. 

“…Yeah? Jensen, what’s going on? Do we need to call in the doctor?”

“No, I’m fine,” he starts to say, but Jared’s up and talking to the director already. 

He sits on the floor, gobsmacked. In this universe he lives with Jared and gets paid to fuck him. 

Why is he going to school again? He can’t even remember. Damn.

Jared drags him to the director, who drags him to a door and knocks. “Come in!”

The director leaves, talking into his headset. Jensen squares his shoulders. Opens the door--

And walks back into the coffee shop.

*

He comes to a breathless halt right in front of Jared. 

“Hey, where’d you go?” Jared says. 

Jensen blinks. This is all entirely too surreal. “I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you,” he says. He looks around. It’s still night outside the shop, and Jared’s wiping down the espresso machine. “Was I gone long?”

“Yeah, like twenty minutes. I went back there and you were gone. Thought maybe you took off.”

He looks a little…hurt? Jensen licks his lips. “Huh. No, I’m still here.” He sits down, hands automatically going up to play with the necklace. Jared sits down next to him. 

“Jen?”

“Yeah?”

“You ready to leave?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, you can stay if you want, but. I have a class in the morning. I’m gonna—“ Jensen blinks away his thoughts and looks at Jared. He looks again. And then he smiles. 

“Hey, Jay?”

“…Yeah?”

“Would you want to, uh. Ever. I mean.” He clears his throat and squares his shoulders. “I’d like to take you out on a date sometime.”

Jared straightens in his chair, and his eyes go wide, and just for a second, Jensen’s entire universe hangs in the balance. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“That’d be really cool.”

And just like that, Jensen’s home again.

* * *

The End


End file.
